


A Night in the Ring

by Eromancery



Category: Vast Error
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 00:02:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17090249
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eromancery/pseuds/Eromancery
Summary: Who doesn't like some good old fashioned bloodsport?





	A Night in the Ring

Taz looked at the multiheaded abomination, swollen with muscle, as it bore down on her, and wondered how she got into this situation.  
It was a question with multiple answers. The short answer was simple: She walked.  
The long answer wasn’t worth getting in to. By the time she got past her childhood and being raised into the mirthmaniacs, the monstrosity in front of her would have rendered her into a fine paste.  
The medium answer it was, then.

  
The name of the event should have tipped her off, really.

“WELCOME, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, TO THE ALPOCALYPSE IN A BOXALYPSE,” cried some jackass in the announcer’s booth.  
“PREPARE YOURSELVES FOR SOME NONSTOP, OVER-THE-TOP, HEAVY HANDED AND HIGHLY DEMANDED VIOLEEEEEEEEEEEENCE!”

Taz shuddered. His voice was like a power drill on a chalkboard made of wailing children. If he was going to be what she heard all night, she would probably go insane and kill him in a fit of unrestrained anger. Or she might do that while being perfectly sane. It wouldn’t have been the first time she did something like that.  
Of course, first she would have to kill the person she was meant to.

“IN THIS CORNER, THE CLOWN WHO’S GONNA BRING THEM ALL DOWN, GIVE IT UP FOR TAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZ!”

Taz wasn’t aware it was physically possible to stretch three letters out for so long. It would have been impressive if it didn’t inflict upon her a misanthropy from which she which she wasn’t sure she would ever recover.  
A clanking noise from across the ring draws your attention away from your assassination plans for the announcer.

“AND IN THE OTHER CORNER, PROOF THAT THE ALPOCALYPSE’S VIEWS ON DEVOLUTION IS CORRECT, DARING TO BE STUPID, FROM THE BLACK MOON, PLEASE WELCOME, REKGAR!”

As Rekgar (god that was a stupid name, who thought letting barely coherent infants name themselves was a good idea?) stepped up, Taz saw exactly what was making that clanking sound.  
Rekgar was covered in metallic protrusions, like a suit of armor was slowly tearing itself out of his body. Rivulets of burgundy blood dripped down from where metal met skin.

It fucking figures they’d give her the freaks to deal with. The reduplication process was far from perfect, and the mirthmaniacs were of the opinion that the best way to deal with the mutants was pay-per-view bloodsport. To be fair, it was an effective, and lucrative way of glorifying eugenics for an audience.

The troll reached out, and a blade erupted from his forearm in a spray of metal and viscera. The part of his jaw that wasn’t rendered immobile by juts of metal grinned, and he charged at her.  
Instinctively, Taz blocked his slash with her mace, the blow jarring her arm, but doing little else. She immediately countered with a strike to his knee, dropping him to the other knee with a crack of bone and the sound of warping metal.

“INCREDIBLE! SHE’S ALREADY GOING FOR THE JUGULAR! METAPHORICALLY SPEAKING OF COURSE. LITERALLY SPEAKING SHE’S GONE FOR HIS KNEE, FOR OUR VISUALLY-IMPAIRED VIEWERS. IT LOOKS LIKE SHE’S JUST FUCKING OBLITERATED IT! AND WHAT’S SHE DOING NOW?”

Taz brought her mace down and crushed Rekgar’s skull, splattering her face paint with blood, bits of brain and shards of metal and bone. Thankfully, she had remembered to seal her paint.

“WELL THEN…”

For a moment the announcer sounded stunned.

“SHE MAY HAVE GOTTEN THROUGH REKGAR IN RECORD TIME, BUT LET’S SEE HOW SHE DEALS WITH THIS!”

A cage that had been previously suspended above the ring fell with a crash, metal warping and splintering upon impact with the ground.  
Taz approached the wreckage apprehensively. Had that been intended to crush her? If it was, it was a piss-poor attempt at it. Why, she’d seen better assassination attempts from people she considered her frien-

A massive hand burst from the rubble, clipping her jaw and sending her flying back into the ropes.

The rest of the body attached to the hand stood, a hunched, twisted thing that towered over Taz. It was hideously swollen with muscle and bone, skin torn in places to reveal writhing, inflamed, muscles. Its back was lined with jagged outcroppings of bone, almost resembling a skultitan’s plates. All of these things contributed to the grotesquery of the creature, but paled in comparison to the final detail. The creature look to be composed of several trolls fused together. Vestigal limbs jutted from its torso, flailing pathetically. Faces fused into the mountain of flesh that was its upper body opened and closed their mouths, in a futile attempt to wail. Horns erupted from above the faces in random patterns, rivulets of multicolored blood dripping down whenever the rippling muscles forced them too hard against skin.

“PLEASE PUT YOUR HANDS TOGETHER FOR THE ABOMINATION OF REDUPLICATION, THE CONGLOMERATE MONSTER, TERRORTOMA!!!!!!!”

The single head not encased in muscle focused its eyes on Taz. The beast lowered its head and charged at her.

During the flashback through the past 10 minutes, Taz had formulated something that could generously be called a plan, or accurately be called a rough outline of committing murder. Step one was getting a weapon. As the behemoth bore down on her, she leaped into it. The force of her impact destabilized it, and she took that opportunity to wrench a horn free from its chest in a spray of fluids.  
Makeshift spear in hand, Taz took careful aim.

“INCREDIBLE! SHE’S JUST RIPPED ONE OF TERRORTOMA’S HORNS OFF, AND IT LOOKS LIKE SHE’S GOING TO-HRRRRK”

The announced finished his exclamation with a few gurgles, the horn protruding from his neck preventing him from being more eloquent.

With the announcer out of the way, Taz walked over to her fallen mace. Time to finish this.

Terrortoma charged towards her once more, but the floor was slick with its own blood, and it stumbled. It fell on the ground, limbs flailing uselessly. Taz swung her mace into the beast’s back, shattering several of the bone ridges and tearing through the thin layer of skin, but failing to do anything else through the thick layers of muscle. It let out a piteous wail from its multitude of mouths, and slowly raised to its feet. Some of its withered hands grasped at the air. Attempting to destabilize it again, Taz grabbed one and yanked. The hand and arm came free with a sickening squelch and a gout of fluids. Apparently, the parts that weren’t swollen with muscle had the texture and strength of an overripe sausage.

Incensed by the loss of one of its limbs, the goliath roared, and, apparently having the learning capacity of a particularly stupid brick wall, charged once more. This time, Taz sidestepped, and the goliath ran in to the ropes, tangling itself helplessly in them. Taz approached the trapped monster, and, with a little effort, pulled its head from its shoulders.  
The audience roared at the spectacle, the gore-soaked purpleblood standing tall, severed head held high in the air for all to see. Ignoring the screams of adoration from the faceless masses, she turned and began the long walk back home. She needed to wash the blood from her body and clothes.

 

This was the fourth severed head this week, and it was getting ridiculous.


End file.
